The Plug
by Satine89
Summary: Zim finds himself at the mercy of a crazed Irken, but the stakes are high: this Irken is the only female Irken who can have children, and the mate she picks will have to die. Rated T for suspense and mature theme.
1. Beautiful Dreamer

**Beautiful Dreamer**

"My Revered Almighty Tallest, I understand that I have been summoned in regards to my mission?"

The female Irken bowed deeply before Almighty Tallest Red and Purple, the two figureheads of the Irken race. They bowed back, accepting the female's gesture of goodwill. The female, being only a few centimeters shorter than the Almighty Tallest, looked directly at her leaders.

"Yes, Mistress Nin," Almighty Tallest Red informed her. "You know how important your mission is to the sake of our race."

"I do," Nin nodded, absentmindedly fidgeting with her wrist. She finally pressed a button upon it, but no effect came forth. That's what the Tallest thought, anyway. In actuality, a visor was spreading across Nin's eyes, feeding her necessary information about her surroundings from within the lounge of the Massive.

"…According to the Control Brains, the Smeet tanks will short circuit in two years, possibly even less," Tallest Red elaborated. "That is why you were taken out of your sleep, Nin."

"Was I born too soon?" Nin inquired with a scowl. It was a habitual look for her, as normal as the black coating on her arms, or the jeweled pendants on her boots.

"No," Tallest Purple shrugged, staring out of the Massive's huge window. The vastness of space looked back at him, its stars blinking at random intervals. "The Smeet tanks hadn't broken down yet, actually. We didn't want you to die before you were needed."

"Ah," Nin said emotionlessly. The findings she was gathering from her visor were strange, to say the least. For as long as Nin could remember, even while in her sleeping tube deep beneath the surface of Planet Irk, the Almighty Tallest were revered as the great leaders of her amazing race. Yet… her visor was calculating so many things, most of them a bit underwhelming.

"Operation Impending Doom Two is underway," Tallest Red mused. "And the Smeet to be produced in these coming years have to be the greatest warriors and the greatest thinkers Irk has ever seen."

Nin manipulated a few more buttons on her arm, inputting more data into her visor's computer. Her magenta eyes flickered in interest. "Are the Smeet tanks breaking down yet, My Tallest?"

"We've lost two," Tallest Purple thought aloud.

"And the new wave of Smeet need to be the most destructive, diabolical life forms in the universe," Nin murmured. Her knees, covered by black tights, were shaking with anticipation. Nin's hands moved from her sides and to the edges of her royal purple dress. The deep violet stripes going across her chest crinkled with her movement. A smile spread across the Irken girl's face.

"For so long I've waited for this," Nin grinned. "The chance to prove myself…"

Tallest Red glanced at Tallest Purple. Tallest Purple's shoulders sank. Tallest Red turned back to Nin.

"Nin, can't you just make a bunch of -?"

"I don't think you understand my position," Nin snapped quickly, her hands crossing over her chest. The purple baubles on her antennae jingled slightly. "I am the only Irken female who can reproduce, correct?"

Tallest Red nodded. Tallest Purple was watching a supernova implode light-years away.

"I cannot reproduce with any arbitrary Irken," Nin assured Tallest Red. "I entered handfuls of data into my visor as you spoke to me of this mission, you know."

Nin tapped the space in front of her eyes. The visor bubbled into view, a blue masque of truth around Nin's head. Nin looked to the ceiling of the Massive.

"Do you have carpet on your ceiling?"

"Now isn't the time for that," Tallest Red sighed. "What were you saying about your mission…?"

Nin snapped back to attention. "As I said, I cannot just pick a random person off of the streets – out of the underground – and hope for the best! You know about my power as the Sacred Creator, and how this visor is just an outgrowth of myself."

Tallest Red knew. Tallest Purple wasn't a sure bet, but he wasn't even paying attention, opting to watch as a small, inconsequential planet was sucked up by the imploding supernova.

"Right now, I'm calculating how compatible your genes are with my own," Nin informed Tallest Red.

"You're very creepy," Tallest Red responded. "And hasn't it generally been the responsibility of the Almighty Tallest to have the first Smeet with the Sacred Creator?"

Tallest Purple's eyes started shifting over to the conversation being held behind him.

"Generally," Nin shrugged. "But my predecessor didn't go with tradition. Neither did the fifth Sacred Creator, back in –"

Tallest Red stopped her. "I understand. But… who exactly were you planning on creating the Smeet with?"

Tallest Purple was now pretending to watch the supernova turn into a black hole. The Massive was now veering right, to avoid said black hole.

"Whoever is most compatible with me," Nin responded matter-of-factly. "And I know what you're thinking. Love… Tradition… those things have nothing to do with my decisions. If I am to please My Revered Tallest – and the rest of my people – I must locate the best mate possible. By the way, I am only 16 compatible with you."

"What does that mean?" Tallest Red wondered.

"It means the Smeet we would produce would be only 16 better than the Irken Smeet being produced now," Nin answered, gauging her compatibility with a Control Brain that happened to float by in the hall.

Tallest Purple scuttled away from the window. "Mistress Nin… how -?"

"You're 16 too," Nin responded bluntly.

Tallest Purple's eye twitched, but he turned away before Nin could notice. Nin returned her attention to Tallest Red. She clearly respected him more than his counterpart.

"My Tallest, if you would allow me, I would like to use the Irken Database located on this ship. It may help me in locating suitable partners," Nin explained. "Invaders in particular."

Tallest Red gave a nod of agreement and a small smile. "Yes, an Invader. They usually possess many qualities that would be valuable for a Smeet to have… Please, use the Database, I implore you."

Nin bowed deeply again to Tallest Red, and then turned her attentions to Tallest Purple. She bowed to him as well before walking officiously out of the room. The emblem on the back of her head, a diamond with two tinier triangles near the top two edges of the first shape, pulsed an eerie black. This mark made it very clear to any Irken on the planet that Nin was the Sacred Creator.

Tallest Red finally turned back to Tallest Purple. "You were intending on marrying her, weren't you?"

"Yeah…" Tallest Purple admitted, sitting down on a couch. "Oh well."

"Probably better that she didn't want you, though," Tallest Red pondered.

"Oh yeah," Tallest Purple nodded. "That whole death thing."

"I wonder if she's really going to kill an Invader…" Tallest Red shrugged, joining Tallest Purple on the couch.

-

"I have you now, Zim!" Dib screamed for the rest of his apathetic class to hear. "There's no way you can get out of this one!"

Zim blinked. He was used to such threats from Dib, the crazy big-headed boy.

_But wait, _Zim thought randomly, _his head is the same size as mine._

_…I don't get it._

Zim walked past Dib and his pointed finger, electing to take a seat. For a split second, Zim glared venomously at Dib. Everything about Dib irked Zim excessively – his large glasses, his swathe of black hair jutting out of the top of his head, his choice of clothing, his murky brown eyes. But the thing Zim hated most about Dib was his acuity concerning Zim's existence.

Zim was an alien – specifically an Irken Invader. It was his job, as an Invader, to either exterminate or enslave all life upon a planet. That way, when the Massive and its battalion of ships came to the planet, the pesky assault phase would already be taken care of.

And Dib knew this. How he found out – or why he even cared – was a matter Zim didn't want to touch.

"What is it that I am supposed to be getting out of?" Zim wondered aloud.

Dib narrowed his eyes. "You're an alien. I know it."

"Pshaw," Zim scoffed, waving his hand in an awkward manner. "I am a perfectly normal earth monster."

"Dib, you're crazy," a voice from the back of the class called out. It was Zita. Although everyone called Dib crazy – even his own sister, Gaz – Zita was rumored to have started the trend.

Zim smiled. Dib usually shut up after someone called him –

Dib got out of his seat, going to sharpen his pencil. As Zim paid no attention, Dib kicked Zim on the back. Dib had, however, kicked Zim's PAK, an Irken device containing the alien's brain, personality, and a bunch of other nifty gadgets (such as mechanical spider legs, for extra mobility). This caused Zim to writhe terribly, screeching in pain. Dib stood by, a maniacal grin across his face.

Resident popular girl Olivia, pushing some sandy hair behind her ear, scowled. "What a freak."

Zita's purple hair bobbed as she turned to Olivia. "Dib or Zim?"

"Exactly," was Olivia's response.

Ms. Bitters, Dib and Zim's teacher, sat behind her desk, gently pressing her fingertips together. "Dib! You already sharpened your pencil once this year! Get back in your desk!"

Dib did as instructed. He had a gut-wrenching fear of Ms. Bitters.

"And Zim!" Ms. Bitters yelled. "We all know that you're criminally insane. Stop showing off your talent."

Zim bit at his lip, attempting to keep all of his bile within his mouth. Zim glowered at Dib, the pain within his tiny body rising at an insurmountable rate. Dib's grin only grew wider.

If Zim was criminally insane, then Dib was surely the illegitimate son of a homicidal maniac.

Zim's eyelids twitched repeatedly when something vibrated within his PAK. Dib saw this out of the corner of his eye, waiting for something strange to occur. He saw the vibrations to mean that Zim was repairing himself.

Zim, however, wasn't repairing himself. That's why his knees buckled, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers. His hands clattered upon the desk, which proved very distracting for Melvin, who had both ADD and a short attention span.

When Zim's brain created a thought, it was not a good thought. It was a very bad, very foreboding thought.

"I'm going to die," Zim said plainly.

Dib raised an eyebrow. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

Zim turned to give a sharp retort, but his jaw dropped. Rendered speechless, Zim made a variety of choked noises.

"What?" Dib wondered, shifting in his seat. "All I did was kick -"  
Dib's jaw also fell. Dib and Zim watched, helplessly, as the sky turned a shocking green for a few seconds. A white streak zoomed across the sky, and, just as suddenly as it started, the spectacle stopped. Zim coughed up something disgusting-sounding, and Dib was certain that he had stopped breathing.

"Freaks," The Letter M muttered underneath his breath.

Disclaimer: I don't own Invader Zim. Obviously. Otherwise I'd be waving money in your face. (I kid, Jhonen! I kid…)

A/N: This is the first time in a long time I've posted a new story. I was hoping that the first new story would be a Family Guy one, as that fandom has supplied me with some of my most loyal fans, but the story I started ('Road to Mexico') isn't particularly funny, and I need to rewrite it. This story, on the other hand, was amazingly easy to write, and I'm almost finished with it as we speak.

A/N 2: I heard a rumor floating around that JTHM was being considered for a film treatment. Please, God, tell me it's not true.


	2. And Go Home To My Lord and Be Free

**And Go Home to My Lord and Be Free**

"That was a ship of the Irken armada – there's no questioning it," Zim thought aloud back in his "home". From this house – or, more accurately, this secret base – Zim had often dreamed up nefarious schemes and plans to exterminate the humans. Today he was more concerned with the mysterious spaceship.

He remembered Dib's exact words as soon as it disappeared: _"Let me guess. Nobody saw that other than us, right?" _

His words weren't very helpful at the moment.

Zim's PAK hadn't stopped vibrating since the spaceship landing. Of course Zim knew what this was supposed to mean – the Sacred Creator was searching for a mate. Much as he tried to deny it, he knew that, of all the Invaders in the Irken Empire, only three had ever been on earth. One of those three, Tak, was now floating around in some deep vacuum of space, probably playing mah-jongg with her SIR unit.

Zim's own SIR unit, Gir, was currently rolling around on the couch in his green dog costume. Most SIR units were robotic slaves of their Invader masters. Gir, however, had a brain made of a few coins and bubblegum, making him either severely insane or very naïve. Whichever the case, Gir was not your obedient robot slave. Gir's idea of obeying his master was giving Zim a gigantic hug, which would be nice if Zim was lonely or sad. It had no practical application during this crisis.

"Ooh! Sacred Creator!" Gir giggled. "Wahooo! Creating stuff!"

"Gir, this is no time for levity!" Zim bellowed. "If that Smeet-making… thing… comes after me, she'll kill me!"

"Is she pretty?!" Gir screeched. "I like pretty things!"

Zim didn't answer. There were many rumors as to how this fiendish black widow looked. Some said she was a stunning beauty. Other called her inconspicuous. Being second in power to the Tallest, one thing was certain – she was an Irken goddess.

"Maybe she's after Skoodge," Zim concluded. "That's it. I'll just let her… kill… Skoodge…"

Zim trailed off. "No, that wouldn't be good, either."

"Is her head big?!" Gir cried out happily.

"Maybe it's Gir," Zim whispered to himself. "…How would that… work?"

"It doesn't matter, because I'm not after your stupid green dog."

Zim breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, mysterious Irken female. I was starting to…"

Zim blinked before whirling around. In his doorway was a tall Irken shrew, with piercing magenta eyes, purple baubles on her antennae, and a very dangerous-looking bow and arrow.

"It's you!" Zim screamed.

"Who?" Gir wondered.

A snore came from down in the basement. Skoodge was sleeping.

The Sacred Creator loomed over Zim. "You're shorter than I expected. Why is your compatibility rate 95 if you're so short?"

Zim blanched. "Compatibility rate?!" He trudged backward awkwardly. "So you really are her!"

The Sacred Creator smiled, holding out her hand. "Nin. Nice to meet you, Zim."

Zim looked down at Nin's hand. He was about to shake it when he noticed a pulsing blue spark streak across her palm. Zim recoiled quickly.

"Why do you have a toxin glove?!" Zim yelled, walking backwards at a brisk pace. Nin, angered, followed him, her wide strides closing the distance between the two. Zim yelped, tripping over his own feet. He laid sprawled on the floor, frozen in terror, as Nin caught up to him. She leaned over, looking directly into Zim's terrified eyes.

"I have one because I can," Nin answered before roughly kicking Zim across the room, sending him flying into the wall. Gir watched this with some sort of detached awe.

Zim's eyes flittered open quickly – just in time for him to notice that Nin was directly on top of him. Taking a page from her book, Zim kicked Nin in the stomach. She didn't hit a wall, but at least Zim had time to grab Gir and jump down the toilet in his kitchen. The toilet deposited them into the making stuff room. Usually Zim liked the making stuff room, but now he needed something – anything – to defend himself…

Zim looked to a pile of rubber piggies. He was doomed.

Gir began to play with the rubber pigs when a loud crack emitted from the ceiling above them. Zim shuttered.

"Why won't you play with Nin?" Gir wondered.

"…Because," Zim whimpered, locking himself into a cabinet of some sort, "if she did… play with me, in your words, afterwards she would kill me."

"Yaay!" Gir squealed.

"That's bad, Gir," Zim groaned, turning a key. He jiggled around inside the cabinet for a few seconds before realizing that he was locked in. Good.

A loud thud echoed within the confines of the making stuff room. Zim pressed a button on the side of the cabinet, making a video screen of the outside world (or the making stuff room) pop up before him. Nin had landed on her rear after falling down the toilet, and was now looking around confusedly.

Zim's lip quivered. No matter how ultimately terrifying she was, Nin was actually kind of cute. When she wasn't trying to have your babies and/or kill you.

Nin got up, looking down at Gir, who was still in his green dog outfit.

"Weird green dog," Nin mused. She paused for a few seconds. "…10 compatibility. At least I won't have to bother with you."

Zim did not want to know.

Gir looked up at Nin, holding out a pink pig and grinning like a maniac. "I GOTS A PIGGIE!"

"I can see that," Nin answered emotionlessly.

"WANNA GO TO A PENNY ARCADE?!" Gir asked enthusiastically.

"Not really," Nin responded.

"Why are you so tall?!" Gir screeched. "My master's not tall! So why are you tall?!"

Zim quivered violently. Gir had mentioned him. If Nin got a hold of Gir's SIR files, it would only be a matter of time before she found his hiding place.

"…Master?" Nin questioned.

"Yay Irk lady! Woohoo!" Gir screamed, running around in a circle. "My master and pretty Irk lady, trying to blow each others' brains out! Yay brains!"

Nin's eye twitched. Without warning, she grabbed Gir by the head and yanked him up to her level.

"Look, you saucer-eyed moron, I have no time for your mind games," Nin said briskly. "Tell me where - !!"

Something beneath the dog's skin was glowing red. Nin recoiled in horror as Gir kicked her hand and fell to the ground. Gir shed his dog suit, revealing his status as a SIR unit.

"SIR unit?!" Nin gasped.

Zim had to admit that Nin was acting like an idiot.

Gir's eyes glowed red, and his metallic casing was shining in the crimson light. He made a defensive pose as a missile launcher poked out of the top of his head and aimed itself at Nin's head.

Nin stared at the barrel of this missile launcher for about five seconds. Then, with a frantic snap, she disappeared.

Gir looked around suspiciously, the missile launcher poised to kill above his head. Without warning, Gir's eyes turned a warm cyan color and the missile launcher disappeared. He ran around skipping again.

Zim kicked his way out of the cabinet. "What was that all about?" Zim frowned. "She was scared of Gir's missiles. That's odd."

Gir began to press some harmless buttons on the side of the wall. Zim put them there just so Gir would have something to do in the making stuff room.

"But… she had a toxin glove," Zim murmured, a chill running down his spine. His PAK rattled before calming down, returning to its normal, non-vibrating state. "If she had touched me with that thing, I would have been put under her spell…"

"Yay!" Gir cooed.

"I don't think you get it, honestly," Zim frowned. "That's NOT GOOD, Gir. That's bad. Very bad."  
"Spells are good," Gir smiled. "Like fairies and cupcakes and underwear!"

Zim turned away from Gir's reverie, reviewing the video of the altercation that the computer had recorded. "…Thank God she didn't activate the Plug."

"Plug?" Gir murmured, his eyes turning red. "Master, what is this Plug?"

Zim blinked. Seeing Gir get protective of him was always a kick, because, if possible, he was even more lovable that way. Zim smiled before returning to the topic.

"The Plug is a terrible device," Zim explained as Gir's eyes slowly went from red to cyan. "It's the Irken reproductive organ, and…" Zim trembled. "It's too gross, I'm sorry."

"That's okey-dokey!" Gir grinned wildly, hugging Zim. Zim cocked his head slightly before shrugging.

"Who knows? Maybe Nin will leave us alone now."

Zim thought about his previous statement.

"Probably not, though."

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Invader Zim. Woo-hoo… (throws party for herself)

A/N: I just want to thank everyone who reviewed. It is honestly very unusual for me to get a ton of reviews for a chapter. The most reviews I've ever gotten for a first chapter (not counting one-shots) was about 11, for _Coming to America!_ (my psychotic Naruto fic) And I honestly thought the plot would be off-putting to most people, so my summary kind of sucks.

A/N 2: It's good to know that JTHM won't be a movie. There are just some things you don't make into movies. I wish that Eli Roth had known that before making _Hostel II_… (shutters at bad memories)


	3. To Immortalize the Moment

**To Immortalize the Moment**

"THAT USELESS SCUMBAG!"

Nin kicked a siding panel on her ship furiously. She was beyond pissed off. That stupid little Zim – technically he wasn't even an Invader, yet he had managed to outwit her.

Nin screamed, banging her head against a wall. "They all said he was a Defective. The Tallest said he was insane. But I didn't think it would be that bad…" Nin's eyes widened in fear. "And that SIR unit! That horrible, ghastly thing!"

Nin sat down on the floor of her spaceship, sighing. As soon as she found her center and had calmed down sufficiently, she began to devise a plan.

"The Tallest said that he was crazy," Nin reiterated. "But that doesn't mean anything. Once I make the Smeet with him, I can kill him. And that will make the Tallest happy."

Nin paused. Despite his defiance of nearly every Irken law regarding the Sacred Creator, Nin couldn't help but feel a small attraction to the poor Irken.

That mental blip went away fairly quickly.

"I'll just have to track him down in my own way," Nin reasoned. "There is no doubt in my mind that he has a human disguise. If I just track him down while he's disguised…"

Nin grinned maniacally. "All I have to do is use the toxin glove on him."

She looked down at her palm. In an instant, a glove materialized into view. The Irken emblem was present on a button stuck to the black wristband, and sheer, tissue-like material joined the metallic joints of the glove to Nin's skin.

She began to giggle, an interesting sound in itself. "Zim is mine."

-

"Did you hear there's a homicidal maniac on the loose in our town, Zim?" Dib asked him in an extremely condescending manner.

Zim looked like he hadn't slept. The bags under his eyes were grotesque and visible from nearly five feet away.

"I really don't care about it," Zim admitted, eyes flickering open and closed at random intervals.

Dib was starting to freak out at this. "Did you sleep last night?"

"Sleep…" Zim mused on the subject. "I cannot recall ever sleeping last night. I think I stared at the ceiling."

Dib winced. "What's wrong with you lately?"

"I can't believe you're asking me that," Zim countered coldly. "And when did this 'homicidal maniac' of yours come into town?"

"Apparently two weeks ago," Dib answered cautiously. Before Zim could open his mouth, Dib continued. "Don't you dare think of teaming up with him, Zim. His victims were horribly disfigured when their bodies were found – and there's a wide range of people, too. Men, women, young, old…"

"I don't care about his victims!" Zim bellowed, but since he was sleep-deprived, it came out as more of a croak. "I'm just making sure it isn't…"

Zim cut off, realizing that he had said too much. Dib, however, was now curious.

"It isn't… what?" Dib asked with a creepy grin. Zim frowned at him.

"Nothing of your concern," Zim replied matter-of-factly.

"Well, it's obviously important, if you got no sleep over it, Zim," Dib accused. "Unless sleep has suddenly become unnecessary."

Zim had been backed into a corner on this one, and he knew it. He bit his lip, thinking of something to say – a lie to tell. However, all the stories Zim came up with seemed implausible and convoluted.

"Okay, Dib human, you win. For now," Zim quickly added, seeing the look of sheer delight on Dib's face. "I won't tell you anything really important. All you need to know is that the streak we saw yesterday in class belongs to a female killing machine dead set on having my baby and then murdering me."

Dib's face was contorted into some sort of bizarre, off-putting mess. He didn't quite know what to say, nor did Zim give any indication that he was lying. Dib shuttered, heaved a huge sigh, shivered again, and then paused.

"You're kidding, right?" Dib inquired.

"I'm not kidding," Zim responded, affronted. Suddenly, his PAK began vibrating again, this time softly. Zim jumped nearly five feet out of his chair.

"She's back," Zim breathed. Dib looked around uneasily.

"Zim, I think you're losing -!"

A gigantic crash came from down the hall. Flames were visible from outside of Zim and Dib's classroom. As the rest of the class erupted into pandemonium, Zim grabbed a microphone off of the side of his PAK.

"GIR! GET OVER HERE!" Zim screeched before snapping the microphone back into its jack, grabbing Dib's arm, and flinging him out the window.

As Dib sailed out the window, he thought of many things that had happened to him in his short life – the tricycle accident when he was three, getting wedgies almost daily, his paranormal studies, that jerk Zim who was throwing him to his death…

Dib landed on something soft. He quickly pulled himself up to see that he was resting on a floating pig, and that Zim and his crazy green dog Gir were already manipulating this floating pig as if it were a spaceship.

"What is -?"  
"Silence, human fecal worm!" Zim demanded. "That explosion was definitely the Sacred Creator Nin, and if you want to survive, you'll just go along with this!"

Dib had no other choice. Gir squealed in the front seat.

"Joyride! Can we go on a joyride, master?!" Gir asked happily.

"We have no time for that!" Zim countered.

"What's this Sacred Creator thing?" Dib had to ask. Gir flipped around in his seat to face Dib.

"She's REAAAAAALLLLY tall!" Gir yelled. "And likes purple things!"

"The Sacred Creator is the second most important figurehead on my home planet," Zim admitted. Before he continued, he grabbed Dib by the shirt while still looking forward. A quick pat-down gave Zim what he wanted – a voice recorder, which he promptly smashed with his bare fingers.

"The Sacred Creator is the only female on my planet that can create babies," Zim continued, unabated. "However, because of the addition of a reproductive organ on a female, she is rendered mentally unstable and, at her worst, utterly devastating."

"And she's the second most powerful being in your government?" Dib practically screeched.

"I'm not going to question my lords," Zim frowned, "but this Sacred Creator, for whatever reason, has decided that I can create the best baby or some ridiculous filth. And everyone on my planet knows that the father of this baby will die. It's part of the process. So I'd have to be killed in some painful fashion in order for her to have this stupid Smeet."

"Smeet?"

"Baby."

"Oh."

Zim landed the pig on top of the roof of his house. "I have too many things to do here. I cannot die now."

Dib tried to dismount the pig, but he fell off of the roof and onto a garden gnome. Zim looked down curiously before he crossed his arms.

"Stop fooling around! This is serious!" Zim cried. His voice was still not entirely there. "If I can't get you to help me out, your entire planet will be blown up."

Dib peeled his face off of the garden gnome. "WHAT?!"

Gir jumped off of the pig and onto the lawn with perfect form. "Nin's gonna blow up Earth!"

"I got that," Dib frowned. "But… WHY?!"

Zim also jumped off of the roof, landing smoothly on his feet. "I cannot say I know why she'll do this. All I know is that all of the past Sacred Creators blew up the planets where the Smeet was created."

"Why do you need Smeet?" Dib wondered.

"That I can't tell you," Zim responded.

Zim yanked Dib off of the lawn gnome and flung him into the house. Gir jumped in after him, and Zim closed the door, being the last one in. Dib was sprawled on the floor, head reeling. He'd been beaten up more times in the past fifteen minutes than he had in the entirety of the last month.

Zim disappeared into the bowels of his house, leaving Dib sitting with Gir. Gir was chewing on some bubblegum that he had picked up off of the bedside table. This bedside table, for some odd reason, was sitting by the television. Dib twiddled his thumbs.

"So… how exactly does that work?" Dib asked Gir.

"Bubblegum?" Gir responded.

"No. This… Creator thing," Dib clarified. "Wouldn't Zim die for his planet?"

"Nin is psycho crazy like my mama's underpants!" Gir cooed. "But I love my big old fat mama…!"

Gir began singing some random Earthling song, leaving Dib annoyed. Luckily for him, Zim soon popped out of the toilet and sat down beside Dib.

"So what do we have to do?" Dib asked as Zim turned on the television.

"I cloaked my house in an invisibility device," Zim explained. "And everything around it. I'm not a fool, human monkey worm."

"You know that your insults make no sense, right?" Dib asked.

"…What?"

"He's right, you know."

Zim fell face-first onto the floor. Dib looked up and his eyes widened to the size of plates. Nin, the evil genius herself, was hovering over them, hooked to the ceiling with some metal poles.

"You let a human into your base?" Nin bellowed. "You stupid waste of an Invader."

"Invader?" Dib blurted out. "INVADER?!"

"You make it sound like a bad thing," Zim said coldly. "And it's not really important right now."

Zim took out a very large gun of some sort, aiming it at Nin's forehead. Nin lowered herself off of the ceiling.

"A plasma gun?" Nin sighed. "Look, Zim, it'll take a lot more than your puny inventions to kill me."

"Wasn't planning on killing you," Zim corrected, shooting the gun into the television. In a brilliant display of light, the television exploded, sending Dib and Gir flying far beyond the blast zone. Gir, suddenly awakened, shed his dog costume, eyes red, and flew into the fray.

Dib was now sitting alone on the street, watching two aliens and a robot attempt to kill each other. He was torn into two directions. If Nin killed Zim after… doing stuff… with him, Zim would be defeated. However, if this happened, his Earth – beloved Earth – would be destroyed as well. Dib stood up, dusted himself off, and pulled something out of his pocket.

It was the alien handcuffs.

Nin jumped around on some sort of insect-like leg appendage, while Zim used Gir to repeatedly shoot missiles at the Sacred Creator from behind his couch. Nin, not seeing the SIR unit, carried on like she always did. Dib ran up behind the distracted Nin, and before Zim could get a word in edgewise, he was holding her arms together, trapping her.

Nin gasped. Zim put Gir down and tried to get to Dib's side. Gir returned to normal mode and hid beneath the couch. Dib grinned wickedly.

"I'm going to be the one to kill him," Dib gritted. "NOT some psychotic sex fiend like you."

Dib went to click the handcuffs onto Nin's wrists, but nothing was happening. Zim stopped, confused, before he was flung into a wall by some unseen force. Dib felt himself float away from Nin's body, and he flailed wildly. Nin turned around, the handcuffs floating above her head. Her eyes narrowed, inspecting the human stuck in her web.

Nin looked directly into Dib's eyes, and Dib saw her eyes widen slightly. Zim roused himself from his stupor long enough to see Nin reach for something on her hand. In his last breath, he grabbed the plasma gun lying on the ground, cocked it, and fired at Nin's PAK.

Nin whipped around and fizzled out of view, gone, just as the plasma beam flew through the place where her body once was. The stray beam hit a nearby wall, burning it to a crisp. Dib fell to the floor with a rough thud, released from his prison. Zim panted heavily before fainting again, the large gun cradled in his arms as if it were a child.

Dib bit his lip as Gir crawled out from underneath the couch. Gir patted Dib on the head before hugging him.

"I like you, big-headed boy," Gir whispered. "But my master is sleeping, so we have to be quiet."

Dib wished that Gir was right. He desperately wished that Gir would be right, and that Zim was just sleeping, and that he had never gotten mixed up in this mess.

Dib sat up, about ready to leave, when a shadow descended upon him. Someone was sitting on Zim's windowsill, observing the scared boy. Dib looked into the eyes of the gaunt, freakishly tall man, and saw a lifetime of blood, venom, anger, and madness. Dib let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed into Gir's metallic arms. The emaciated man recoiled and jumped away from the window, fleeing the scene.

Gir watched the man escape with a detached air. Deep within his brain-like object, he sensed that these two forces – Nin and the creepy man – were only just beginning to display their power.

A/N: I am still amazed at the number of reviews I'm getting for this. I'm very pleased, and I hope the story is living up to the high expectations set by the first chapter. Personally, I think I'm terrible at action sequences, but I thought these turned out pretty intense and good.

A/N 2: I never noticed this before, but there is a passing similarity between this story and the movie Species. Not much of one – the only real connection is the presence of alien sex fiends – but it's there. I was watching it on TBS the other day, and I was all, "Crap! The alien baby-monger plot WAS taken!"

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Invader Zim. …Duh.


	4. Without You I'm Not Okay

**Without You I'm Not Okay**

Dib awoke screaming his head off, only to be slapped by his sister Gaz. She squinted down at him in the dim light. Dib shuttered, swallowed, and looked around, expecting to see the near-dead Zim and Gir recovering from the horrendous carnage. Worse, he feared that Nin would be behind him, and the skeletal man would be hunched in front of him – a line of death.

"Shut up!" Gaz yelled. Her voice was trembling. "Zim's neighbors call us, saying that there was an explosion at his house, and we find you and him almost dead. What was going on?"

"I was trying to save his life – my life – our lives…" Dib spat out quickly, his head spinning and his stomach churning. He wasn't ready for Gaz's pointed questioning. He wasn't even ready to sit up. He took a chance and lied down. His head hit a pillow. He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing.

"Where's Zim?" Dib asked.

"Right next to you," Gaz replied angrily. "For God's sake, you're so weird…"

Dib turned to his right side, seeing a wall. He shifted to the left, seeing Zim lying on a cot. As Dib adjusted to the light, he realized that the three of them were in his bedroom. Dib gave a small smile.

"Is he all right?" Dib wondered.

"Out cold," Gaz frowned. "I'm going to get some milk for you."

Gaz left, heatedly mumbling about helping stupid Dib and why couldn't Dad do it and such. Dib rolled back over, facing the ceiling.

"You're awake, aren't you, Zim?" Dib inquired. He received no answer. Dib closed his eyes.

"Well, no matter. You'll pull through, I know it," Dib mused. "Because you're…" Dib cut off. "How are we going to get out of this, though? Either we die trying to stop her, or we die after losing to her. We can't possibly win…"

Dib realized that he was basically talking to himself. He rolled towards the wall, blinking away nonexistent tears. He was exhausted, and his body was so battered that he could barely breathe.

After a few minutes of silence, Dib heard a cough.

"Zim?" Dib said, trying to hide his elation. "Zim?!"

Dib sat up far too quickly. He clutched his chest in pain, but he saw Zim shaking in his cot, coughing up who knows what.

"Zim, are you all right?" Dib asked cautiously.

Zim coughed again before breathing heavily. "…Good enough. And you?"

"I can't feel my chest. Or my stomach, or my legs, or –"

"Can you feel your head?" Zim interrupted.

"Yes," Dib responded, lying back down.

"Then we're good," Zim whispered. His voice sounded even worse than before. He coughed again. "Where are we?"

"My house. Apparently your house exploded," Dib explained. "My sister said that your neighbors found us."

Zim stared at Dib's ceiling. "…I'm just curious, so don't be offended when I ask you this."

"Okay."

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" Zim practically screamed. The effort floored him, and he was left hacking up spit. Dib shuttered, looking away from the noise. The corners of his mouth twitched.

"…I had those handcuffs I threatened you with," Dib clarified in a feeble voice. "She was distracted, and I thought I had her, I really did."

"…Well, you ruined everything," Zim scowled.

Dib narrowed his eyes. "Where do you get off telling me how I ruined things?! If it wasn't for your stupid Smeet-making madwoman, we wouldn't be in this situation!"

"It was my fault in the beginning, and I would have killed her!" Zim replied tautly. "But did you see that look on her face when she sent me flying? She could have killed both of us, but she didn't, and now… Now everything is falling apart because you're the new target!"

Dib and Zim were silent for a very long period of time.

"What?" Dib petered out, stunned.

"She didn't kill you – us – right then because now you're her new ideal mate or something!" Zim cried. His voice was starting to crack. "It's that look – that look that could kill a thousand men! She's after you, I can feel it!"

Dib sat up again, but the pounding in his head made all other pain feel numb. He grabbed at his forehead, sliding sweat off his brow.

"So she's going to make a baby with ME and then kill ME?" Dib gasped.

Zim coughed in a raspy tone. "…There's no other explanation for us being alive. She would have taken that plasma beam and shot it right back in our faces."

"Which would have killed us," Dib breathed.

The two were silent for a long time.

"I don't want to die," Dib murmured.

Zim bit his lip. "I don't want you to die either. Either I kill you or nobody does."  
Dib and Zim both lied down again, staring at the soft blue ceiling.

"Are you mad at me?" Dib asked.

"I'm always going to be mad at you. You're my worst enemy," Zim replied. "I just needed your help to get rid of Nin, but things went wrong. Now you need my help. It's basically the same premise."

Dib nodded before trying to get some sleep. A thought hit him, and he leaned towards Zim again.

"Do you think that maybe she's hiding in skool?"

A/N: Once again, I am humbled by the number of people reviewing. And I haven't gotten any flames yet. Wow, that's a first.

A/N 2: This is one of the shortest chapters in the story, but it's a necessary bridge, so I included it. The original version of this scene went on much longer, and involved some slightly weird Zim/Gaz moments. Since that wasn't the focus of the story – not to mention that my own work began to creep me out – I took all of that out.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Invader Zim… sigh… don't you get it already…?


	5. Kids With Guns

**Kids With Guns**

Zim sat in his desk, frowning in an ersatz fashion. It looked like he was constipated. Dib glowered at him from his own desk, but this was also in an artificial way. The two of them had to keep up appearances while trying to find Nin.

Dib and Zim had come to the conclusion that Nin, knowing that Zim went to skool, followed him there the day before. However, since she was now after Dib, she was going to need a disguise. At least, that's what Zim reasoned. Dib had no choice but to believe him.

Zim folded his hands together, blinking. He pressed something on his arm, and a glare traveled quickly across his eyes. When this glare left, there appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary on Zim's person.

Dib sighed. He couldn't believe that he had to team up with his worst enemy in order to defeat a psychotic baby-monger. He couldn't believe that he had even gotten involved with a psychotic baby-monger. Things like that don't happen to eleven year olds. Usually.

Dib scowled before walking over to Zim's desk. "What was that glare just now?"

"Stupid human, I always glare at you," Zim frowned, missing the point. But Dib couldn't be entirely sure. He couldn't shake the feeling that Zim was playing him for a fool.

"No, that shine. You activated something," Dib grumbled, putting a hand on Zim's desk. "I know there's something you aren't telling me, Zim. I'm going to find out what it is, and when I do –"

Zita slammed into Dib as she walked past, a sneer on her face. Zim looked at her for a few seconds before turning to Dib. "It's not her."

Dib clicked his tongue. "Who else would have hit me?"

"No. No, you sad excuse for a functioning human dookie blob," Zim chided. "That human ice worm isn't Nin. She's not giving off any Irken pheromones."

"Irken pheromones." Dib narrowed his eyes. "Right. I hate being strung along like this."

Zim said nothing, because Miss Bitters had suddenly swooped over his head and was breathing down his neck. He flinched. Dib backed up, tripping over his own feet and into his desk.

Olivia rolled her eyes languidly, gesturing to The Letter M and mocking Dib's faux pas.

Dib sat down in time to see Zim look to The Letter M and Olivia, obviously inspecting them. Dib found the whole situation bizarre and wanted out as soon as possible.

A plan began to formulate in his mind. If he killed himself –

No. That was a very bad plan. Then Nin would proceed to make Zim's baby, kill him, and blow up earth. Not to mention that he didn't want to die. Dib revised his plan. He had to kill Nin. Dib didn't care about Zim's planet's laws concerning some cracked woman scorned – or Zim for that matter – all Dib knew was that she must die.

Zim was now watching as a very unpopular girl, Gretchen, went to turn in a paper in the absent bin. The absent bin proceeded to explode, as did many random objects in Ms. Bitter's classroom.

"That's to prepare you for your future career as a telemarketer," Ms. Bitters told Gretchen, who was busy trying to get soot out of her eyes.

Dib saw Zim's eyes widen. Dib rolled his eyes. There was no way that Nin could be hiding inside Gretchen. Gretchen was actually nice to him, and seemed to have… a… crush…

Dib's brain shut down.

-

"Wow, I never thought I'd see this," Gaz commented, sitting next to Dib, who was sitting next to Dib. "When's the wedding?"

Dib and Zim were too enveloped in their conversation-turning-into-argument to even pay attention to Gaz, who wasn't really expecting an answer. After all, Quake 7 had finally been released for her Game Slave 2, and NO ONE was going to stop her from finishing story mode. Not today.

"So you really think it's Gretchen?" Dib whispered.

"It has to be. Look at her pathetic disguise!" Zim replied.

"Okay, Zim? Your disguise SUCKS," Dib countered. "And Gretchen's always looked like that. Haven't you noticed?"

Zim was quiet for a few seconds. "…But she IS giving off Irken pheromones. No doubt about it, that's where Nin's hiding."

"Gretchen has been in my class since kindergarten," Dib grumbled. "How could Nin be Gretchen?"

Zim sighed. "Do you remember Tak? She used a hologram to disguise herself as a human. Since Nin is crazy, she probably kidnapped Gretchen and locked her in a closet somewhere, allowing Nin to use a hologram model of her body and come to skool."

Dib narrowed his eyes. "I still don't believe you."

"Who else can you believe?" Zim wondered. "You could always go your own way, create some mutant super-baby, get killed, and see your planet blow up from your perch in purgatory…"

"That hurt," Dib admitted angrily. "Really, that wasn't necessary."

"You don't have many choices," Zim grinned evilly. Dib got the feeling that, in the act of apprehending and getting rid of Nin, he was going to end up mutilated beyond recognition.

Or maybe he was mixing up that feeling and the feeling of Gaz kicking his knee violently. Either way, he felt like he was going to throw up.

And Dib did. Zim jumped onto the table, shrieking in terror. He was, evidently, afraid of vomit. Gaz looked up before returning to her game. The rest of the skool kids thought that this was a momentous occasion, and as such began whispering like freakish cretins. Meanwhile, Dib really wanted to go to the nurse's office.

"I really want to go to the nurse's office," he moaned. "Gaz, can you -?"

"I'm not pulling you out of your barf," Gaz answered coldly.

Dib turned to Zim, and, seeing him curled in a ball, slowly got up (almost barfing again looking at himself) and hobbled off to the nurse's office.

Meanwhile, at the unpopular kids' table, Gretchen began to breathe heavily and turn pale.

A/N: By my calculations, we're reaching the big climax. I hope this chapter didn't come off as exploitative, because I did a lot to fix some odd little lines and sentences that sounded completely crazy/perverted/uncalled for. This stemmed from the Gaz/Zim romance I scrapped in order to make these last few chapters taut.

A/N 2: I cannot stress how much I value the sheer amount of reviews pouring in for this story. And they aren't stupid, one-word things like 'UPDATE', or my personal favorite from another story I wrote, 'YAY'. You guys rock!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Invader Zim. If I did, I'm guessing that this would have never been made into an episode.


	6. I See My Red Door

**I See My Red Door**

"Disgusting, filthy, germ-ridden humans!" Zim yelled at Gir, desperately washing himself with glue and soap. (Note to normal humans: do not attempt to do this.) Gir, instead of trying to make Zim's eardrums explode, was listening quietly, playing with a human puzzle. Zim couldn't remember if he had told Gir to do this, or if he just picked up on it on his own.

"Disgusting!" Zim cried out again, shivering and twitching in all kinds of places. "Honestly! That revolting vomit thing! Why?! WHY MUST THEY DO THAT?!"

Gir was too busy working with the jigsaw puzzle of a sunflower to care about vomit. But Zim was apparently repulsed enough to clean his entire body a good seventeen times.

"That stupid Dib human!" Zim bellowed. He clearly couldn't be taken off course. "I cannot believe that he did that… gross… thing… and that he believes I'm going to help him!"

"Aren't we helping him?" Gir asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," Zim responded. "Yes we are. Until we stop. Then we will no longer help him."

"All right!" Gir cooed, sticking more jigsaw pieces together. "When are we gonna stop then?"

"We'll stop," Zim replied, drying himself with a towel, "when Nin is no longer a –"

Zim's eyes widened, and he dropped the towel. His fingers twitched violently, and he stared up to the ceiling.

"Vomit," Zim gaped. "Wait… what if Dib was reacting to that toxin glove?"

Gir scattered some puzzle pieces inadvertently with his foot as he tried to put a large piece in the center of his humanoid diorama. "What's that?"

"That's a puzzle piece, Gir," Zim answered.

"No – a toxin glove! What's that?" Gir re-inquired, acting like an innocent schoolchild being told of a death. He wasn't grasping the magnitude of the situation, and Zim could tell.

"It's a device containing many of the strongest poisons known to the Irken race," Zim explained. "Together, these poisons form a love potion of sorts. No one can resist it."

"Why don't you have one?" Gir wondered.

"…Because I have no use for having Earth stink worms fall in love with me," Zim sighed, going back to his cleaning. "Although..."

Gir looked up at the door, which appeared to be moving. Gir followed it with his head, smiling oddly. When the door began to glow, Gir thought nothing of it. Zim looked up in time to see a giant energy ball forming within its center.

"GIR!" Zim bellowed, pushing him out of the way. Zim himself skittered to safety, but not before the phantom door had blown a huge hole in his sofa. Zim held Gir close to his body, trying to save the poor SIR unit. Zim hid behind the nearly obliterated television set, wondering how Nin had programmed a hologram of his door to attack him.

Zim waited for the next blast, and it came. However, it came from his house's security system, and the door flickered into nothingness, its projector smashed into a million pieces.

Gir started bawling in Zim's arm. Zim was too stunned to move. He realized that he'd never been up against an enemy this powerful before… and he didn't like to think about what would happen if he lost to Nin. Zim jumped out from behind the television and stood on his toilet.

"Gir, we have an emergency!" Zim yelled. "I've come to a conclusion…"

Gir jumped on Zim's head. "Is it about Nin?"

"Yes."Zim's eyes narrowed to slits. "Enact Plan C."

-

Dib sat in the nurse's office a few hours after school had let out. Professor Membrane was coming for him – the nurse's assistant had finally reached Membrane Laboratories.

The nurse's assistant turned out to be Olivia, that popular girl who always mocked Dib. She had only shown up an hour ago, but Dib didn't care, having curled into a ball on a sick bed. Olivia watched him oddly, inspecting the thermometer in her delicate hands.

"Did you eat anything weird?" Olivia asked curiously. Dib looked up wearily.

"I haven't eaten anything since this morning," Dib replied feebly. He clutched his stomach. For some reason, he was feeling even worse than before.

Olivia stuck the thermometer in Dib's mouth. "You probably have the twenty-four hour flu. Either that or anxiety."

Dib's eyelid twitched. It was definitely anxiety, because everything was starting to look absolutely absurd, whether it be the disgusting paint on the walls, or the Poop Cola dripping off of the side of the reception desk, or the weird-looking sparks lollygagging around Olivia's left wrist.

Dib's eyes widened. There was NO WAY that a normal human would have sparks around their wrist. There was also no way that those sparks boded well for him.

Dib jumped off of the sick bed and began to run out of the room. However, his legs turned to jelly and his head began to spin perilously out of control. He was sick, after all. Dib ignored this and kept running, down the hall, out of school, into the street, clutching his head, tripping, reaching a lawn away from the school, feeling a chaotic mess burble in his stomach. He glanced up and saw Olivia glaring at him from across the street. Dib kicked at the ground, shoving himself backwards. Any second now, Nin would come flying across the street and kidnap him…

Dib closed his eyes. So this was his end. He never even got to prove Zim's existence…

Any second now…

A dribble of sweat worked its way down Dib's cheek. Why wasn't she coming? Dib, at this point, just wanted her to end the madness…

Dib opened one of his eyes a sliver. He was just in time to see Olivia fall to the sidewalk across the street, something dark and purple shooting out of her head. Dib gaped, open-mouthed, as the purple thing darted towards him. It suddenly sprouted an arm, which grabbed his neck. Dib turned a pale shade of pinkish-green.

Dib stared at the heap that was Olivia. Her blonde hair was cascading down the school steps, a morbid river of beauty. Dib tried to move, but the purple cloud and its arm were restricting his movement.

"You thought you were pretty smart, didn't you?" the purple cloud said. The cloud began to piece itself together, and body parts came into view. When the odd biological rearranging was complete, Nin was standing before Dib, strangling him. The insect-like appendages coming from her PAK made her seem much taller than normal.

Dib could only give out a choked noise in response. Nin smiled evilly.

"I'm guessing you have no idea how I just did that," Nin sneered, throwing Dib onto the grass below. Apparently, the people who lived inside the house had no idea of the chaos occurring two feet away from them. Dib tried to scream, but Nin roughly grabbed his head, squeezing it.

"I'm not going to explain myself to you yet," Nin grinned, "because that would be stupid. I mean, I have you in my clutches. You're ill, you've been cornered, and there's no Zim around to save you."

Somehow Dib doubted Zim would have saved him anyway. Dib was starting to think, and things just weren't adding up… Zim was acting very suspicious for a friend, and very genial for a foe. Almost as if he was making it up as he went along.

Nin threw Dib into the air. His scream was sucked into the air as Nin zapped him with a pink light. He disappeared. Nin gave a very toothy grin before making herself disappear in another flash of pink light.

A/N: I had you guys going! I was really quite delighted that I was roping you into believing that Nin was hiding as Gretchen! I don't know if that's a sign of arrogance or a sign that I need to take some pills, but…

A/N 2: There have also been an accumulation of 'wow, Dib's only eleven and yet… ew…' kind of comments. I would like to briefly explain something: DIB WANTS NOTHING TO DO WITH NIN. And I doubt Nin really cares how old Dib is – he's 99 compatible with her, and that's all that matters. Besides which, I doubt Nin is all that old either – maybe an Irken year old, at the most?

A/N 3: Shameless plug time! Again, thank you everyone for your continued support of what may be the craziest fiction I've ever written, excluding my Family Guy stories. I encourage you to please read my other fictions if you like what you see – just, er, don't read the really old ones. Cause they suck.

DISCLAIMER: We're gonna play a short little guessing game. Guess who doesn't own Invader Zim? Me! Very good, children! (channeling Umbridge… sweat drop…)


	7. On Being Saved

**On Being Saved**

Dib landed, with a thud, onto a bed in a spaceship. He looked outside, seeing stars glittering and winking at him. Dib found the view breathtaking. He sat up to go to the window, but he moved too fast; the action left him on the floor, praying for mercy.

"I see you react badly to the toxin glove," a familiar and unwelcome voice murmured. Dib turned his head angrily, clutching his stomach.

"All this was caused by a stupid glove?" Dib reiterated irately. He stood up slowly, frowning visibly.

"Yes," Nin answered softly. "…It was my plan to make you sick from the start. I possessed various bodies in my quest to get Zim in my clutches, and he didn't notice until I tried to possess a teacher and missed my mark, hitting the wall."

Dib blinked. "You missed?"

"Shut up, fool!" Nin barked, tossing Dib aside like a ragdoll. His body hit the wall, his back cracking ominously. Dib squealed in pain. Before long, Nin was on top of him, taking off his glasses.

"I don't want those broken," Nin murmured. Dib cocked an eyebrow. The more time Dib spent in Nin's company, the more he was convinced of her psychosis.

Dib heard a mechanical click. He closed his eyes, wanting it to end, wanting everything to end, why didn't he run farther back on Earth -?

A loud crash sent Nin tripping backwards. Dib took the opportunity to jump away from the wall. He saw what made the clicking noise – and he flipped out. Grabbing the nearest thing, Dib armed himself.

"You're going to kill me with a coat rack?" Nin questioned lightly. "And by the way, that crash was nothing. Just a bit of turbulence."

Nin began to walk towards Dib, who wielded his coat rack with all the grace of a tipped-over cow. Thankfully for Dib, something crashed through the door and smashed Nin in the face. The green blur landed next to Dib, who looked at it before smiling.

"Protect Dib – that's what master says," Gir informed Dib, his floppy dog costume shredded in some areas. Dib dropped the coat rack and instead picked up Gir.

Nin stared at the green dog before recoiling in horror. She jumped onto the ceiling, insect legs sprouting out of her PAK and anchoring her to the wall.

"You're playing really dirty, human," Nin glowered, her eyes growing turbulent and dark. "Taking that dumb Invader's SIR unit."

"…Are you afraid of it?" Dib finally realized, pieces snapping together in his brain. "You're afraid of the dog!"

Nin growled, taking a long, twisted pole out of her PAK. It had a piece of taut wire running the length of it. Dib put Gir on his head. Gir's eyes flashed red, and the robot shed its disguise.

"We only have to buy time for my master," Gir whispered. "He knows what he's doing…"

Nin manipulated the air near her PAK, causing a Gothic-looking arrow to shoot out of the PAK and into her hand. Nin loaded the arrow into the pole, the purpose of the taut wire becoming evident as Nin pulled the arrow back.

"A bow and arrow?" Dib mused. Gir's eyes suddenly reverted to their normal blue color, and he began to pound on Dib's head.

"WAHOOO!" Gir shrieked. Dib felt his sanity slowly chipping away.

Nin shot the arrow. Dib tried to avoid it, but he couldn't. The arrow pierced Gir's head. Dib yanked the SIR unit off of his head and tried to dislodge the arrow, but the more he pulled, the more his palms began to burn. Dib finally realized that the arrow was scalding him.

Gir's eyes became black, vacant holes of nothingness. Dib shook the SIR unit, over and over again, but no life stirred. Getting desperate, Dib unlatched the top of its head to find that the arrow had punctured Gir's metal plating, going completely through it, and that one of the bubblegum balls within had been pierced. The cut ball was a deep green color, as opposed to the vibrant purples and pinks in his other gumball brain cells. Dib could hear the fatal twang of another arrow.

"Yes, the SIR unit is gone," Nin explained with a tinge of malice in her voice. "These arrows are tipped with an Irken sedative. The thing's not dead. Don't worry. It'll wake up as I finish with you. You're going to get shot, too. Don't worry, Dib…"

Nin's grin was wider than a semi. "…It's a pleasant way to go."

Another crash, this one much worse, rocked Nin's ship. A communications link flickered to life, revealing Zim to be the mysterious attacker. Dib had never been so happy to see Zim in his life…

"Hah! I have bested YOU! You… you Irken, you!" Zim cooed happily before dissolving into a puddle of giggles. Nin dropped her bow and arrow.

"Now, if you'll look at your fuel levels, Nin…" Zim demanded, voice dripping with hateful pleasure. Nin did as told; the whole situation was scaring her. She dropped her weapons and screamed.

"No! No no no NO NO NO!" Nin yelled. "This CANNOT be happening!"

"But it can be," Zim replied. "I've been shooting at your fuel cells for close to an hour or so. The first crash was your main fuel cell going; the second one was your backup exploding. Now you're going to fall to Earth. Happy trails."

Zim disappeared, and Dib found himself frantically slapping Gir. "Wake up! Wake up!"

A gravitational pull sucked Nin's ship into Earth's atmosphere. The craft turned into a ball of flame, rocking towards Earth at a breakneck pace. Nin cursed Zim vehemently while Dib held onto the wall of the vessel with one hand and onto the catatonic Gir with his other. Dib felt his ears pop multiple times, his head threatening to explode.

Nin's spaceship crashed onto the street by Zim's house. The collision sent Nin flying into Zim's picket fence, Gir into the air, and Dib onto the street. Dib rubbed his back, sensing that he had skinned it up pretty badly.

Nin peeled herself off of the fence, completely horrorstruck. Zim's ship landed on the ground near her, shuffling some of the debris about with its engines. Zim exited grandly, shooting a toothy grin to Nin. Nin, clutching a rather large dent in her head, fumed audibly at him.

"You pathetic, moronic excuse for an Irken!" Nin shrieked. "I have every right to kill you at this very moment for impeding my mission and for disobeying the will of the Almighty Tallest!"

Zim laughed loudly. Gir, who was sprawled on Zim's lawn, sat up calmly and giggled with him. Dib dusted himself off and stood in awe. Her speech seemed stilted. Dib hadn't noticed it before, but she seemed to be doing the same thing as Zim – making it up as she went along.

"…You have every right to kill me, true," Zim laughed. "But you can't."

Dib walked over to Zim's side. "Zim, you could just kill her now! Everything would be –"

"Be what?" Zim wondered. "…Oh, you sad little boy."

Nin and Zim grinned malevolently at him. Gir continued to giggle maniacally. Dib's confusion was evident.

"…What's going on?" Dib asked frantically. "What are you -?"

"You really thought I would be on your side?" Zim interrupted, his voice booming.

Dib's brain shut down, and his heart slammed downward, into his stomach. His eyes widened, hands shaking and dislocated heart pounding.

"You… you were…" Dib tried to string together a coherent sentence, but he couldn't.

Zim wasn't on his side.

A/N: Ah yes, the BIG twist. Now Dib is on his own side… and the last chapter is forthcoming… I know that all kinds of theories have been thrown around as to who is coming and what's going to happen, and I promise I won't disappoint.

A/N 2: On shuttered vs. shuddered: they both mean the same thing. Shuddered is just a more… 'acceptable' verb. I didn't want to keep using the same word over and over again, so I used shuttered.

DISCLAIMER: Invader Zim! Invader Zim! I never owned it, not even on a whim! (my rhymes SUCK)


	8. Changing Spots

**Changing Spots**

"You… you…" Dib continued to splutter. "How?!"

Nin laughed, her shrill voice disturbing the stillness of the cul-de-sac. "It's quite simple. A little while after I discovered your high compatibility rate, I met with Zim privately, and we formed a pact. Zim wants you dead; I want to create the Smeet. We needed a way to lull you into a sense of false security, to make you believe that Zim was on your side, so we staged our enmity."

Dib couldn't believe it. He was double-crossed! And every fight, every attack – it had been staged, just to get Dib into a corner!

Gir hooted with delight. Dib scowled. Even the stupid robot dog was in on it, he realized with a scowl. Dib tried to move his arms in defense, but they were so sore that even the slightest twitch made him cry out in pain.

Dib scowled. "So… ever since your house almost got blown up…"

"No. It was after my door started attacking me. I figured enough was enough – the both of us could have our way," Zim finished. "But now I think it's about time we got this show on the road. Nin, he's all yours. I shall get supplies for our trip!"

Zim walked into his house, laughing triumphantly. Gir followed him, but not before staring back at Dib for a while. Dib thought that maybe the dog would come to help him, but it was useless. Gir skipped into the house, following Zim aimlessly.

Nin grabbed Dib by the collar before throwing him into Zim's working ship. Dib's back sank into the craft, and a mechanical rope tied him to the casing.

"Well, well, well," Nin tittered vindictively. "It would seem that you're out of options, then, Dib."

Dib didn't question the fact.

"How does it feel, I wonder?" Nin mused sarcastically. "After all, you trusted your most sworn enemy."

"I've trusted him before," Dib corrected, "and he's come through for me a few times." Dib cracked his knuckles against the side of the ship.

"That must make it exceptionally bittersweet," Nin smirked. She leaned in close to Dib, fingering his glasses. "How did you get these back?"

"The dog," Dib lied. In reality, while Nin's ship was busy turning into a bloated fireball, his glasses had – quite literally – slammed into his face. A small, lighthearted moment to punctuate the darkness of the past few days.

Dib was almost relishing death at this point. Even if he ran from Nin, she'd find him again, and the chase would begin anew.

"I see," Nin frowned noticeably. She was now only an inch or so from Dib's face. "I suppose this is the last conversation I'll have with you."

"That's probably for the better," Dib mused.

Nin's grin didn't falter at all. "From what I hear, you're quite the social pariah. No one talks to you, or so I've been told… maybe death will be a welcome respite from that."

Dib opened his mouth to respond, but a loud gunshot erupted from the quiet. Dib felt the rope against his chest loosen, and he heard Zim's door slam open. Dib looked up.

Nin was reeling, her fingers still dancing on his skin. However, she wasn't looking at Dib anymore, but at her assailant.

"…100…" Nin murmured. Her hand moved away from Dib's face, instead going to a gaping wound in her side. Dib swallowed some bile. There was no way a wound of that size could be healed. Nin stared at her hand, her blood completely soaking it. Nin's eyes rolled and she collapsed onto the ground.

Zim's ship released Dib. He fell onto the ground, too tired to stand. He glanced over at Zim, who was just as flabbergasted as Dib was. Zim's eyes darted around before they rested on something that made him cough and splutter in fear. Zim darted back into his house.

Dib raised his head and looked upward. He scrambled away quickly – Nin's assailant was armed, dangerous, and all too familiar.

It was the first time Dib had gotten a good look at the emaciated man. In their previous meeting, Dib had been completely drained and teetering on the edge of consciousness. Now he was just scared. The man's appearance was enough to scare Dib. His black hair was short, but falling into the man's bloodshot, dilated eyes. The gun he had used was stuffed into the pocket of his incredibly tight jeans, and his limbs looked malnourished. Flecks of blood peppered his long-sleeved overcoat, his jeans, even his hands. Dib bit his lip to choke a scream. It was the homicidal maniac.

"…Are you going to kill me?" Dib inquired.

"No," the man responded. "You've done nothing to me."

Dib stood up, dusting himself off. "You… you saved my life."

"Sometimes I do things like that," the man retorted as he walked off. "What was she saying when she died, though? '100'? What kind of last words…?" the man shook his head. Dib saw that he had his ears pierced in many different places.

Dib glanced at Nin, her blood leaking onto the pavement. The man strode away, hands in his pockets and his back hunched over. Dib ran after the man.

"Excuse me -?" Dib started.

"Just go home," the man instructed. "…You look like hell."

Dib froze before walking over to Zim's house. He knocked on the door nonchalantly. Zim opened it and glared at his visitor.

"Dib," Zim frowned.

"Zim," Dib replied calmly. "…She's dead."

"If I send her back to the Almighty Tallest, they might be able to revive her," Zim responded. "But she… she wouldn't be the same."

"Thank God," Dib murmured. "…She said '100' when she died."

"That must mean she found the perfect mate," Zim explained. "Ironic."

The conversation was oddly detached, as if neither of them wanted to speak of the incidents of the past few days.

"The homicidal maniac," Dib understood.

"What?"

"The homicidal maniac I was telling you about killed Nin. He was the only other guy here."

Zim and Dib frowned, lost in their own thoughts. Zim wiped his hands on Dib's shirt.

"What was that for?" Dib shrieked.

"You look terrible," Zim shrugged. "How much worse will you look with a little dirt on your jacket?"

Dib shoved Zim aside and looked at his reflection in a mirror in the kitchen. Both the maniac and Zim were right – Dib was a complete mess. He was coated in metal shrapnel from the crash, Nin's blood, and accumulated dirt. His glasses were crooked on his face, and his hair was matted and tangled. Dib gaped at himself for a while.

Gir appeared in the doorframe before squealing with joy. "BIG-HEADED BOY!"

Dib looked at his legs. Gir was hugging him in an awkward fashion. Dib smiled in spite of himself. Yes, the past few days had been awful, and he had been almost killed at least four different times. But, Dib told himself, life should return back to normal. Even if his best friend was now a mentally ill robot dog. Even with the Sacred Creator being sent back to her leaders to be revived to go stalk a homicidal maniac. And even with Zim positioning a plasma gun to the back of his head as he thought.

Dib ducked and ran out of the house, tossing Gir behind him as he ran.

-Fin-

A/N: Wow. What a journey. For those of you who guessed that the homicidal maniac (Nny) would come back, you were right. I was surprised, however, how few people predicted Nin's death. I thought that would have been a given… but maybe not…

A/N 2: No, there will be no spin-off where Nin tracks down Nny. Sorry.

A/N 3: Because I know there's going to be some weirdo who won't understand HOW Zim and Nin teamed up, here it is: the Plan C Zim told Gir to enact was, in fact, a partnership plan with Nin. Ta-dah.

A/N 4: Thank you, for a final time, for making my first foray into IZ fanfics both memorable and profitable. I don't think I've ever had so many constructive commentary in my reviews, excluding my Family Guy stories. Thank you all!

DISCLAIMER: It's the last time. I won't have to say I don't own Invader Zim anymore. That's… sad, actually.


End file.
